


hatred

by chibitalex



Category: Kagerou Project, Mekakucity Actors
Genre: Angst, Hate to Love, M/M, im kanoshin trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 03:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10153148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibitalex/pseuds/chibitalex
Summary: Kano hates Shintaro. It's really that simple.Too bad Shintaro has to be so weird about it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> after a multitude of uh. personal issues that i dont really want to get into, im finally back to my regular computer, and thus, am able to upload this fic. yeah. ok. im well aware that this is... not within the acceptable time frame to submit presents, but uh? TAKE THIS AS A GIFT FIC, IF ANYTHING... @chuuyakin, this one is for you. though i can't seem to find your tumblr. this was for you. i love your face still, and if by chance you're reading this, i hope you enjoy.
> 
> i love death and dying. and kano being an immature asshole while shintaro fumbles around awkwardly like a stepdad trying to be cool to his new teenage son. (except... said new teenage son would be kano in that analogy, so that's weird. try not to think about it too much.)
> 
> tw for this fic include: blood. a lot of blood. sadness. pain. hahaha this is what you signed up for.

                Kano is fairly certain that he hates Shintaro.

The reason he’s limiting himself to the usage of the word “fairly” is simply because, well, there days where Shintaro does something nice, and it sets him almost completely off guard.

Like right about now.

Peering over the edge of his magazine, Kano spares a glance at Shintaro, who is assisting Kido poorly with various tasks, but he’s trying, at the very least. Whatever Kido’s making smells absolutely delicious, and she holds out an empty bowl expectantly in Shintaro’s direction, to which he tosses in some chopped vegetables in a somewhat awkward fashion. Kano is pretty sure that he sees a slice of cucumber drop on the floor.

Nonetheless, Kido seems satisfied enough, and she waves the walking train wreck out of the area not long after. Fumbling around for his phone, Shintaro walks out of the kitchen, and for the briefest of moments, he and Kano make eye contact. They look away from each other just as quickly, but the way Shintaro walks shifts slightly under the newfound knowledge that he’s being observed.

Kano decides to forget about the jerk for now, settling in to finish reading the rest of his magazine article- which is about sea urchins, by the way- as he purses his lips and does his best to ignore how Shintaro doesn’t seem to be planning on leaving his damn house any time soon. (After all, Momo’s still mucking about in the other room, and she doesn’t seem to be in much of a rush to leave, either. Apparently, she still needs to finish marathoning some American cartoon with Hibiya.)

Shintaro meanders about into the living room, finally settling into a chair across the way and shoving an earbud in rather forcefully, tapping around his screen. Whatever music he’s listening to is turned up high enough to the point where Kano can almost sing along to the lyrics.

The sea urchins will have to wait, Kano supposes. “Hey, can you turn that down?” He asks almost sweetly, grinning as he sets down his magazine. “It’s really noisy!”

“What? Oh. Sorry.” Looking up from his phone, Shintaro merely nods, shrugging it off with a barely there murmur of an apology. This effectively ends the conversation, with Shintaro messing around with the volume until it’s at an acceptable level, before popping in the other earbud and absorbing himself in whatever’s on his screen.

The moment he looks away, Kano can’t help but scowl, rolling his eyes as he flips up the cover of his magazine again, because that’s just so _like_ him to do that. Shintaro isn’t the type of guy to take the feelings of others into account for just about anything. In fact, even though he had helped out Kido several minutes earlier, it wouldn’t exactly be surprising if he only reason he did so was to present the image of himself being a good person to the others.

( _Now, who else does that exact same thing…?_ Kano can’t help but think bitterly.)

What an awful person.

Shintaro hasn’t changed at all from his middle school days. He’s still just as selfish, just as inconsiderate, and just as oblivious to the feelings of everyone around him. He hasn’t learned a damn thing.

There’s no doubt in Kano’s mind now that, yes, he definitely hates Shintaro.

 

 

                “You should hurry up,” Shintaro tells him over the phone. “The last train leaves in ten minutes. If you don’t make it, you’ll-“

“I’ll _what?_ Have to wander around for the night? Have to walk home in the dark? How _terrifying_ ,” Kano laughs breathily into the receiver, though he hastens his pace slightly. “This is normal for me. Kido and Seto aren’t going to be worried!”

Truth be told, Kano isn’t sure why he bothered to pick up the phone. Shintaro’s number doesn’t even have a contact name attached to it, but it’s always easy to tell when he’s calling. The last four digits of his phone number just so happen to coincide with Kano’s birthday, so there’s never been any reason to change it.

“You should pay more attention to them, then,” Shintaro informs him coolly. “Whenever you run off like this, they both sit around the kitchen and wait until they hear you coming up the stairs before they head off to their rooms.”

How arrogant for someone as emotionally stunted as Shintaro to say, Kano thinks, though as irritated as he is, he isn’t stupid enough to say something that would put the entire gang’s tentatively forming bond in jeopardy. Gritting his teeth, he widens his stride and tries to not say anything biting, which only sort of works.

“Really! I should pay more attention to my family, huh? That’s pretty ironic, don’t you think?” Kano chirps. “Considering the way you are and all…”

Shintaro says nothing for a long moment, and Kano almost thinks he’s hung up before there’s a quiet voice on the other end.

“Just come home already. I want to go to bed. I’m not in the mood for your… _jokes_ ,” Shintaro mumbles. There’s something underlying his tone that Kano can’t place. “I’m hanging up now.”

Before Kano can even get another word in, the line goes dead and Shintaro’s gone. He pulls the phone away from his ear, takes a look at the time, and decides to sprint the rest of the way to the station. If he misses the train, he reasons with himself, then it’s all Shintaro’s fault for distracting him. A lot of things are Shintaro’s fault. Most things are.

Thankfully, he does end up making the last train home, although he has to practically jump through the doors as they creak shut. Plopping himself on a bench, Kano closes his eyes and tips his head back, breathing heavily and idly pushing the chipped edge of his phone case around with his left thumb.

This final race to catch the last train, coming from a destination that Kano never needed to travel to to begin with, is slowly becoming a ritual that he appreciates. It’s a bit of excitement, at least. There’s some sort of satisfaction in just _barely_ making it through the doors, allowing his legs to falter and his muscles to burn. It’s a strange sense of accomplishment that Kano doesn’t care to name.

Shintaro, of course, doesn’t have any indication of these nightly races that he sets for himself, and it’s with this knowledge that he can safely say that once again, Shintaro has proven that he knows nothing about him, nor the dynamics of his family. Kido and Seto have almost been encouraging him to try and pull himself around the town more, though Kano wouldn’t consider himself to be a shut in by any means. It’s not like he’s personally _told_ them about his escapades, but they wouldn’t particularly care about him sneaking off, anyway.

It’s not as if Kido and Seto don’t care about him, Kano says, it’s just that they aren’t particularly concerned over every little thing that he does.

Shintaro should really stop trying to interfere with his business, especially when making such bold-faced statements about _“paying more attention to his family”_.

But just for fun, when Kano arrives home that night, he blinks slowly and shifts his form into that of a slender black cat’s. From there, it doesn’t prove a challenge at all to jump from ledge to ledge, balcony to balcony, until he reaches the sliding glass balcony door of his home. Strangely enough, Seto and Kido appear to be sitting at the kitchen table, nursing cups of tea and talking amongst themselves, occasionally sparing a sideways glance at the front door.

When Kano shifts back into his only slightly modified normal form and steps through the front door, neither of them are there, the cups still sitting on the table as if they had been left behind in a rush.

 

 

                Kano hates Shintaro. He’s sure of it, now.

It’s weird, really, because he’s spent over two years being certain that he hated Shintaro with all of his being, from the moment Ayano had begged him to disguise himself as her and attend school with him. Shintaro was never warm to her, never praised her for her hard work, and never once tried to see if everything was going well for her in her personal life. Not once. The Shintaro from back then was a selfish bastard who never even deserved to have Ayano in his life, let _alone_ have the title of being her “best friend”.

Chewing on the inside of his mouth, Kano has to keep reminding himself of this as Shintaro chats with Seto, flipping through the latter’s frankly obscenely large collection of animal photos that would scare most people off the moment the topic came up. It’s so disgusting, he assures himself, the way that Shintaro’s eyes light up every time Seto swipes to a new screen. The two of them laugh about something together, and from afar, Kano shoots Shintaro a sharp glare.

Seto really, really shouldn’t be talking to him. None of them should. All he’s done is contributed to the overarching misery of their late sister and has just generally been a bad person, all things considered.

“Kano, you should come look at this one!” Seto smiles, looking up from the phone to wave him over. “This cat looks almost exactly like you. The way that you look as a cat, anyway.”

To an outsider, that last sentence would probably seem completely insane, but Kano is intrigued nonetheless, and moves closer to the table, avoiding Shintaro’s line of vision. Not that it helps get the feeling of his eyes off of him.

“It sort of does, doesn’t it?” Kano muses, leaning on the edge of the wood. “Too bad it doesn’t have my dashing good looks!”

“Right,” Shintaro nods unenthusiastically. “Your _dashing good looks_.”

The nerve of this guy. Speaking to him and playfully teasing him as if they’re _friends,_ or something. Kano’s stomach twists slightly before he slowly turns to the other.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Shintaro?” He sneers in a way that comes out much harsher than he intends for it to, and almost immediately regrets it. Not because he’s afraid it’ll upset Shintaro- far from it, actually. Anger just simply isn’t an emotion that meshes well with the personality Kano’s taken so much care in crafting over the years.

Shintaro glances at him through his dark bangs, opening his mouth to say something, before ultimately shutting it down and looking away, letting out a heavy sigh. Looking between the two of them, Seto’s eyebrows furrow in worry, and he slides the phone away and into his back pocket. Seems that they’re done looking at animal pictures for the day.

“… Well! I’m going to go out and get some groceries,” Seto says casually, though his tone carries an unusual amount of weight to it. “Would either of you be interested in tagging along?”

It’s a strange sight to hear Seto speak so formally. Maybe it’s just a few leftover habits remaining from his younger self, but typically, Seto tends to avoid saying anything even remotely formal for Kido’s sake. It usually only comes out when he’s trying to act as a mitigator, which Kano finds ridiculous.

“It’s actually getting a little late, so I’m just going to head home. It was nice talking with you, though,” Shintaro responds from across the room. Kano’s eyes follow him as he calmly puts on his shoes, reaching over for the small umbrella that he had been toting around with him earlier. “See you.”

Seto only barely manages to get out a passing goodbye before the door is closing and the two of them are left alone in their foyer. The room suddenly feels smaller, more quiet, but Kano’s body doesn’t relax even a bit. His shoulders stiff, he releases a long breath and turns away from Seto, who is watching him carefully. At least Shintaro’s gone. That’s a plus. Though, there’s certainly something to be said about the after effects of his presence- The following hours after seeing Shintaro are always something of a mess for him mentally.

“I don’t know why you hate him so much,” Seto crosses his arms. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Poor, misinformed Seto. He doesn’t know about how flippantly Shintaro treated Ayano in school. He wasn’t there. He never _experienced_ it.

Unlike Kano, who was actually there, and therefore, has a decidedly more informed opinion than someone who blindly strives their best to see the good in everyone.

“Can’t you see how awful he is?” Kano snorts, and begins to walk away, only to be tugged back by the forearm by Seto. He stumbles backwards, meeting his brother’s concerned gaze.

“Is there something you aren’t telling me?” Seto asks.

“Nope! He’s just awful, and I hope you can see that for yourself soon enough. That’s all!” Kano forces a grin, pulling at his sleeve a rather futile attempt to escape.

Seto makes a distasteful expression- an unusual look for him- and lets out a long sigh. He seems content to discontinue the conversation there, but then steels himself, as if coming to a sudden realization, and looks back up at Kano.

“It isn’t like you to hate people like this,” He says. Kano opens his mouth to protest, because _really-_ when Seto continues. “You’re a better person than that. Shintaro isn’t leaving the group anytime soon, and as much as I support you- you’re my _brother_ \- I can’t say that I like the way that you’re treating him.”

A dark feeling bubbles up inside of him, bitter, and Kano swallows it down with a smile after a moment of gaping like an idiot. Seto’s unwavering gaze peers into him, and for a moment, Kano feels his smile falter, before steadying his ability and crossing his arms.

“You don’t _know_ him like I do, okay?”

“And how do _you_ know him?”

“I just _do,_ okay? Is that a good answer for you, _brother_?” Kano snaps, which only elicits a drawn out sigh from the other.

Frowning, Seto looks away, contemplative. Now that’s an expression he recognizes, Kano thinks, that’s the same one he gets when he’s weighing out the pros and cons of using his ability. It’s a rare expression, but he’s seen it before. Only in extreme situations. Never around the house, and certainly never around his siblings.

There’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

Watching for the glimpses of red in his irises, Kano’s stomach is tight as he makes the decision for him, closing his eyes and relaxing his arm in compliance.

“You don’t need to do that,” He says, and Seto honestly seems relieved at the prospect of not having to read his mind. While the other visibly relaxes, Kano tenses up further in turn, speaking with no small amount of hesitation. “I… I can’t talk about it in detail, but I know that he didn’t treat Ayano the way that she deserved when she was alive. She deserved better than to have a friend like him.”

Seto’s eyes soften, and he suddenly doesn’t look so upset, which isn’t saying much, as he never really even looked that upset to begin with.

“That’s it?”

Kano nearly chokes. _“That’s it?”_ He repeats, sputtering. “What do you mean, _that’s it-_ “

“Shuuya.”

The usage of his first name wills him into silence.

“Shuuya,” Seto grabs both of his shoulders firmly and rocks him back and forth, gently, as if trying to bring him back into reality. Kano looks up at him dully, raising an eyebrow, before Seto laughs softly and speaks. “You haven’t seen Shintaro in years. You don’t know what kind of person he’s become between the last time you saw him and up until now.”

“But-“

“-And if you’re going to say something about how you don’t think that there’s anyway that he could have changed, then why don’t you just look at me? Or Tsubomi? Tsubomi actually _trusts_ people now. She’s practically attached to Momo at the hip. And as for me, I barely cry anymore. Only at those touching animal rescue videos online!”

Seto’s smiling so genuinely that Kano can’t help but snort in amusement, looking away for a brief moment.

He tries again, confidence in his previous statements vaguely shaken.

“You guys changed _because_ of Ayano,” Kano furrows his brows. “He stayed the same despite her. It’s different.”

“Even so,” Seto pushes on. “Change is possible. And he hasn’t been rude to us at all since he’s started being around us, and always helps out around the house, and always wants to know if you’re getting enough sleep-“

_“He what?”_

Seto puts up his hands defensively, chuckling. “You didn’t hear it from me. But he seems to be a genuinely good person. Why not give him a second chance?”

As hard as it is to admit it, his brother has always been pretty persuasive when it came down to it. If he didn’t know any better, Kano would almost call that gentle smile of his downright manipulative, always warm and melting anyone who dared to get within its range. Seto’s hands come back down to his shoulders, tapping back and forth rhythmically as he waits for a response.

“I’ll try. No promises, though.” Kano eventually agrees, and almost immediately, he’s pulled into a warm embrace. It lasts for only a second before it’s gone, and Seto’s beaming at him.

Maybe Shintaro has changed.

It’s always possible. Kido and Seto changed with time.

(But then again, while they were evolving, Kano had remained stagnant, like a flower whose stem was suddenly severed halfway through its growth. Shintaro, he thinks, could easily fall into either one of the two categories.)

 

 

The next day, Shintaro’s back in his house.

It’s not just him, actually. Momo has apparently tagged along, but from the moment that she walks in and slides off her shoes, it becomes rather obvious just who she came to see. Kano doesn’t particularly mind this, and watches in amusement as she makes her way down the hall, yelling out some passing greetings before barging into Kido’s room.

It leaves a heavy silence between the two of them in the foyer, and Shintaro only endures it for a second before he clears his throat with a soft _“hello”_ , moving to step around Kano. He isn’t intending to cut him off, but before he knows it, his arm is sticking out and blocking the small passageway. Shintaro, the asshole, doesn’t even have the decency to look surprised, either.

“The living room is that way,” Shintaro says without so much of a second glance at Kano. “Unless you’re blocking me out of your house now?”

Kano shakes his head, thankful for his veil of an ability. It hides the way that grin wobbles with uncertainty, and for that, he couldn’t be happier.

“Nope!” He chirps, leaning against the wall. “I just thought that, _maybe_ , you and I should properly introduce ourselves.”

That seems to stir some confusion out of Shintaro, and Kano can’t help but feel almost proud at the way that the other’s eyebrows raise in question. When no response immediately comes, Kano continues with manufactured confidence and a grin in an attempt to ward off the quickly encroaching silence.

“My name is Shuuya Kano. My eye ability relates to…” He furrows his brows beneath his disguise, unsure. There’s really no good description for it. Eventually, he settles on the best answer that he can find, though it still doesn’t feel entirely accurate. “Shapeshifting, in a sense! My favourite colour is black. Nice to meet you.”

Shintaro’s still eyeing him curiously, even after he finishes speaking. It takes him a moment- an agonizingly long moment, at that- but eventually, he seems to pick up on what’s going on.

“Sure. My name’s Shintaro Kisaragi. My eye ability is to…” He hesitates. Kano has to wonder if all of their powers are equally as hard to describe. For a brief moment, he can swear he sees Shintaro’s eyes flash crimson, but it’s gone as soon as it he notices it. “Remember, I guess? I can remember everything. My favourite colour is red, and yeah, it’s nice to meet you, too.”

Their gazes meet, and it strikes Kano that this is the first time since meeting him again that he’s actually gotten a good look at him.

For lack of a better word, Shintaro looks tired.

The bags under his eyes are practically begging the boy attached to them to hurry up and get some rest, and that’s not even touching the subject of how messy his hair is- does he even _brush_ it, Kano presses his lips together, wondering. It dawns on him that it probably isn’t a good idea to bring up trivial things like the other’s appearance now, not after he had resolved himself to trying to be nicer, but the temptation is still there.

Ultimately, Kano decides against it, lifting up his arm and allowing the other access into the rest of the house.

“You’re now free to move about my house. Congratulations.”

Shintaro makes a noise that almost sounds like a laugh, and when he proceeds to longue on his couch, unmoving, for the next 5 hours, it suddenly isn’t so irritating.

 

 

 

Nothing much happens for the next week or so. When Kano asks where everyone is, Kido crosses her arms and mentions something about how Mary and Shintaro have been hanging out together quite a bit recently.

 

 

 

Hate is a strong word.

Kano has decided that he doesn’t hate Shintaro. Probably. Maybe? He’s at least forty percent sure.

It’s never been hard for him to hold a grudge, but strangely enough, Kano can feel his resolve weakening every time Shintaro shows back up at the house, either to help fix something that Mary broke, or to help Kido with dinner. (Not that he’s much of a help with the dinner, but there’s not nearly as many stains on the kitchen floor after he and Kido finish, so Kano can only assume that that means that he’s improving.)

He’s ruminating on this one day, contemplating putting on his shoes and just leaving for the night, despite the torrential downpour outside- maybe to take a train somewhere, or something- when the doorbell rings.

It’s Shintaro, because of course it is, and he looks like a drowned rat. His hair sticks to his cheeks in uneven strands that somehow don’t look entirely unfitting for him, but it still takes all of Kano’s restraint to not laugh at the sight.

“Shut up,” Shintaro grumbles, though there’s no real anger behind it, and pushes inside, kicking off his shoes and wringing out his sleeves onto the laminate floor. Rude. Kano narrows his eyes, and when the other notices, he waves him off casually. “I’ll clean it, okay? Don’t give me that look.”

“I’ll kick you out if you don’t. Back into the rain you’ll go!” Kano says, taking a step back as Shintaro uses the only dry part of his jacket to dry off his hair. It isn’t very effective. “This is almost painful to watch. You’re not coming in until you’re dry, so give me a minute to grab some of Seto’s old clothes.”

There’s less than thirty seconds between the time that he leaves the foyer and returns with some sweatpants, but somehow, Shintaro’s managed to get even _more_ water on the floor. He’s standing in a small puddle, staring down at the offending water and glaring at it intensely while shaking the droplets off of his phone when Kano shoves the clothes into his arms and walks away, leaving him be to change.

Everything is well until Kano comes around the corner with a basket for the wet clothes, only to find that Momo has apparently arrived as well. She greets him with a very much idol-like grin as she shuts her umbrella, her clothes completely dry. Not a single hair on her head is out of place. Her arm slings around her soggy older brother’s shoulder affectionately.

“It’s really raining pretty hard out there, isn’t it?” Momo comments offhandedly, tapping off the excess water from her folded umbrella onto Shintaro’s sock.

This time, Kano really can’t help himself from snickering, walking off and leaving a disgruntled Shintaro and oblivious Momo in his wake.

 

 

 

“Well, stay as long as you want. Your sister is probably going to want to stay up late with Kido, so you might have to be here for a while,” He nods, before turning on his heel and making his way towards the couch. For some reason, the words come out easily, which is confusing, to say the least. Kano had fully anticipated at least _some_ sort of awkwardness between them. Yet, Shintaro isn’t demanding an apology, or _anything_ for that matter.

More than anything, Shintaro’s acting as if it’s all completely normal. He’s almost too relaxed, and it would be suspicious if it was literally anybody else.

Yet, for some reason, this is just the way that he’s always been. From the time that they had met at the department store up until now, Shintaro’s never had any qualms about finding his way around the house, nor monopolizing the TV or even _talking_ to anyone, really. Which is a surprise, considering his personality. If he’s remembering correctly, wasn’t Shintaro something of a loner for the two years proceeding Ayano’s death? Two years without any form of social interaction besides Ene, and he’s already up and about, talking to everyone like there was no gap in his life at all?

There’s something strange about it, but he can’t quite put his finger on the root of it.

Kano swallows his breath, irises flitting from side to side as Shintaro stands up and stretches.

“I sort of figured. I remember Momo telling me something about how she’d ask Kido if she could stay the night, too…” Shintaro says, his tone devoid of any sort of interest in his sister’s love life. “Blame my ability.”

“Remembering _is_ kind of a dumb ability. And you had to _die_ for that, too…” Kano chuckles sardonically as Shintaro pulls out his phone. Patiently, he waits for Ene to appear, maybe to scold Shintaro for forgetting to charge her last night, but she doesn’t arrive. Maybe she’s busy, as busy as Takane Enomoto could really get, anyway. “Ah, sorry. That came out a little more rude than I meant for it to be.”

“No, you’re right. It’s not a fun ability,” Shintaro answers quickly, thumbing through articles before ultimately letting the device drop to the couch cushions.

“You know who has a really shitty ability, though? _Hibiya._ I mean, I already have a GPS on my phone. That’s pretty much the same thing as what he does, right?” Kano shrugs, staring up at the ceiling. “Though, mine _is_ better than yours. I have a use for mine, at least.”

(To be honest, changing his form constantly and hiding over his scars probably isn’t the healthiest use of his abilities, but _as if_ he’s going to admit that _._ )

“I have a use for mine,” Shintaro responds quickly, but doesn’t elaborate further, leaving the sentence hanging in the air. It takes a second for him to regain his footing, and Kano can practically see the tire tracks from all of his mental backpedaling. “I know everyone’s birthday.”

“That’s not useful. That’s just something that you remember if you care about someone even remotely,” Kano laughs shortly. It sounds fake even to him. “But sure, whatever! Of _course_ your ability is useful.”

“Nice sarcasm,” Shintaro quips, and begins to walk towards the door, leaving his phone to dry against the cushions. There’s already a wet depression in the shape of a rectangle on the upholstery. “I’m going to the coffee store across the street. You want anything?”

That captures his attention. There’s nothing like a warm drink on a cold day, Kano thinks, and he sits up to mentally go over the menu in his head. It doesn’t take very long to make a decision, but even so, Shintaro patiently waits for his response. Patiently, in this case, meaning “not groaning in frustration”. The most basic form of courtesy that you can offer to a person.

“If you’d be _so kind,_ I’ll have a hot chocolate. With whipped cream-“

“Chocolate shavings and cinnamon?” Shintaro finishes for him.

There’s a moment of silence in which Kano begins to nod, before the oddities of the other’s sentence begin to sink in, trickling down slowly like water seeping through soil. His expression drops slightly, though his outer façade remains the same, or so he hopes. Shintaro must notice the fault within his rather innocuous comment as well, as his face suddenly seems to drain of all colour, pupils constricting.

Kano raises an eyebrow.

 “How did you know that? I never told you that,” He says, more of a statement than a question, and pulls himself off of the couch. It isn’t initially that worrying or suspicious- The flavor profiles work well together, so it could have been just a lucky guess on Shintaro’s end- but the other’s expression quickly twists into something unreadable.

Things only seem to get stranger.

“Uh… I just, you know…” Shintaro stammers out, moving his hands about frantically. “You already mentioned that you like your hot chocolate like that, so-“

“No, I didn’t. I’ve never had any hot chocolate around you, Shintaro!” Kano moves in, approaching him slowly. Shintaro’s beginning to look like he’s being strangled, turning away just as soon as he closes in by a mere several feet apart. It’s not the reaction that Kano would have expected from him, and if he’s being honest, it’s a little frightening to see Shintaro taken so off guard by a simple question.

(Luckily, he’s not being honest.)

“I found a receipt? Of yours? Near the trash can, and I just sort of read it out of habit, sorry…?” Shintaro tries, though every part of his “explanation” ends up sounding more like a question than a statement.

“I never ask for receipts when I buy things,” Kano tips his head to the side. “So I’m not sure how you could have found a receipt that even I never had to begin with!”

There’s a voice in the back of his mind telling him to just _drop_ it already; it’s not that big of a deal, Shintaro probably just heard it from Seto or something, but if that was the case, then why didn’t he just say that from the get go? It’s strange, Kano thinks, _really_ strange.  Shintaro doesn’t look any less panicked than before, and instead of answering, makes a beeline for the door, grip faltering slightly as he grabs Momo’s umbrella and he slides his shoes on.

“I’ll be back-!” Shintaro’s shaky voice resounds, and with that, he’s gone.

The room is empty again, and Kano’s left to wonder what in the hell just happened.

It really wasn’t _that_ big of a deal, he thinks again as he returns to the couch. Shintaro’s just being weird, because that’s pretty much how he operates. Making a big deal out of something that could have been solved just by spilling the beans on his source.

At least, that’s what Kano tells himself as he flips on the television and mindlessly clicks through channels.

 

 

 

Shintaro returns with his drink. They don’t speak of what happened earlier.

 

 

 

                There hasn’t been a day within the past week that Kano’s gone without seeing Shintaro in some shape or form. Somehow, he’s _always_ around, though Kido’s earlier statements about him hanging around Mary prove to be true. More often than not, he’s usually found speaking with her, their voices hushed and soft in the corners of the house.

It’s almost annoying, how the two of them sneak about, like they know something that the rest of them don’t. Kano barely contains his pointed glare when Shintaro emerges from Mary’s room, looking far more tired than what is usual. At least, for him, anyway.

Shintaro makes an irritated sounding noise, muttering something about how he needs to get some sleep for “tomorrow”, whatever “tomorrow” entails. It’s not something that Kano particularly cares about.

“Did you have fun with your girlfriend?” Kano asks dryly, flipping a page of his novel. “You two have been awfully close lately. You’ve been coming here lately _just_ to see Mary, then?”

Silence ensues.

“… Well, alright! Be like that. I would have thought that your parents would have taught you better than to act so flippantly!” He sniffs, silently praying that the irritation he’s feeling doesn’t seep through the safety net of his ability.

Still nothing.

Kano is starting to consider why he even decided to give Shintaro a “second chance” to begin with. How he’s behaving is just downright _rude_.

( _Rude_. Ha. That’s a laugh. Calling someone rude when you’ve personally ruined their life. How like you to stoop so low, Kano chastises himself, before fleeting confusion takes over him. Is this guilt? Towards Shintaro? That feeling’s never really been in the forefront of his mind; it’s always instead preferred to lay dormant in the back of his brain and creep up when he’s trying to get some damn sleep. The confusion fades as he remembers that Shintaro is just as guilty as he is when it comes to regretting past actions, and ultimately decides to back off of the topic for now.)

The tension is the air is so thick that Kano thinks he may just be able to grab it, cut it into pieces. Fry it up for lunch. Store the leftovers in the fridge to have an equally as disappointing meal later. Anything’s better than sitting, waiting for the other to speak. With a very pointed sigh, Kano closes his eyes, crossing his arms in irritation and flops his head back over the side of the couch. Two can play at this game.

 “Kano,” Shintaro speaks abruptly, making him jump in his seat. The other continues without waiting for an indication that he’s being listened to, or even heard, for that matter. “Do you like me?”

The statement takes a moment to settle in before it hits him like a truck, and his body seems to move on its own, sitting up and slamming down his book against the table as gently as he could manage.

“What?” Kano asks blankly. The ability isn’t enough to mask the surprise hidden within the general vacancy of his tone.

“Do you like me?” The other repeats flatly.

“I… I- What? _What?_ ”

Shintaro takes a long, deep breath, like he’s somehow upset with the time that Kano’s taking to answer. Apparently done repeating himself, he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like ‘I know you heard me’, and settles into the back of his chair.

Kano can only stare, fumbling around with potentially witty answers in his mind and mulling them about, but no words form on his tongue. He’s left sitting there, feeling utterly dumbfounded and thoroughly confused as Shintaro watches him with that same expression on his face.

“Uh.” He eloquently says, the filler word definitively cutting off, as if he had meant for that to be the end of the sentence.

It’s humiliating, to say the least. Kano’s entire body feels uncomfortably warm before his senses seem to come back, all at once. The heat coursing throughout him stays as he manipulates his ability to his liking, twisting his face into a smirk. The laugh he gives off only barely sounds like himself.

“That’s hilarious, Shintaro! Maybe you should be a comedian! You really seem to have a knack for coming up with _super funny_ jokes!” Kano snickers, doubling over in what he hopes looks like hysterical laughter. It provides a good opportunity to hide his face, though he doesn’t really need to, what with being able to look however he wants and all.

Shintaro’s apparently gone back to pretending to be a doll, or something, because there’s no response, yet again. In what he thinks may be curiosity, and partly because he may have a death wish, Kano peers up at the other, only to find Shintaro staring down at him with a serene expression that’s difficult to describe. It’s neither upset nor content, just… there. A half step above his typical dull stare.

“Don’t think too much about it. I was just curious,” Shintaro murmurs, and reaches out to ruffle Kano’s hair before he can do anything about it. His fingers are only there for a fraction of a second before pulling away, leaving Kano gaping.

“What the hell was that?” Kano says, his voice coming out much squeaky and higher than he ever remembered it being. “I didn’t say that you could touch me- And…! And, uh… You…”

The words die out on his tongue in a surprisingly short amount of time. The muddled up mess of thoughts in his brain just doesn’t seem to be able to reach his mouth properly, despite his best efforts. It’s not a feeling that Kano particularly enjoys.

Shintaro is no longer looking at him. He appears to be particularly fixated on the ground.

“Force of habit, sorry,” He says in a somewhat remorseful tone. “It won’t happen again.”

Kano notes that he doesn’t appear to be _that_ sorry, but currently, he can still feel his cheeks and ears burning, and now is probably the best time to divert the conversation to something, anything else before he starts to feel even more strange. When he speaks next, he isn’t quite sure if he’s completely able to work his ability properly. The words come out much more disjointed than he’d like.

“Force of habit?” Kano chokes, settling himself back down into a comfortable position on the couch. “Force of habit for who? Whose hair do you mess up so often to the point where it becomes a habit?”

As expected, there’s no response.

Whatever. Shintaro’s been weird from the start. It’s certainly none of _his_ concern if today he’s decided to be weirder than normal.

Even if Shintaro being weirder than normal goes hand in hand with embarrassing the hell out of him- _Not_ very fun.

Despite the lingering fluttering feeling in his stomach, Kano shifts onto his side, flipping his book back open. The words dance along the pages, and he can barely concentrate. Shintaro’s prolonged silence isn’t exactly helping, either.

It’s silent for another minute, during which Kano must have read the same paragraph at least five times, until he notices it.

Shintaro has his hand slapped over the front of his face, head just barely tipping over the back of the sofa’s armrest. The way his chest rises and falls is uneven- ragged, perhaps, and wheezes with every breath he takes. It sounds like he’s choking on his own breath, drowning.

Even with the hand obscuring his expression, it’s obvious that Shintaro’s expression is distraught. Panicked. Worried.

“Just ignore this, okay? It’s fine,” Shintaro mumbles, obviously not fine. He’s either talking to Kano or himself. Maybe both. “It’s just something that happens; it’s no big deal… Everything’s going to be fine this time.”

Kano officially gives up on understanding anything else for the day.

As easy and as tempting as it would be to reach out for the other, give him a hearty pat on the back or give him some reassuring words, it probably isn’t any of his business. (Not his business? Or not his _problem_? Kano has to wonder. An answer does not float out of thin air.)

“Uh, everything’s probably going to be fine…” He begins to say, but Shintaro makes no indication that he hears him, and the rest of his sentence dies on the tip of his tongue.

It’s probably for the best. The only thing that Kano can do to calm people down is to turn into a cat and dance around, but he thinks that that’s probably off of the table.

Kano spends the next hour trying to read as Shintaro tries to recompose himself on the couch.

Truth be told, though, he’s not _really_ trying. His attention is much more focused on keeping appearances up, averting his eyes and pretending like he somehow hasn’t noticed Shintaro’s breakdown.

It’s much harder than it looks. At some point, Kano has to plug in his headphones and turn around. Face to the cushions, volume turned up, ignore it, pretend it’s not there, push it all away.

 

 

 

                It’s happened before. The sensation is almost familiar, wrapping him in a warm blanket, his limbs twitching as the pain sweetly envelopes him.

Kano’s pretty sure he’s dying.

… No, he’s _sure_. This is no time to be insecure with himself! It’s time to have confidence in his conclusions, specifically when the evidence is sharp and impaled fully from his back and poking out the front of his shirt.

He looks down, feels his knees turn to jelly and registers the coolness of the obsidian of the laboratory floor before the new wash of pain surges through him. It’s burning, throbbing, searing, and Kano can _feel_ it, but his voice comes up as a bubbling, gurgling mess when he tries to scream. His words are red- no, those aren’t words. Stupid. Of course, he can’t physically see his own words; that’d be silly. That’s just his blood, he thinks with some small amount of glee, it’s just _his blood_ , that’s all!

Why did they even come here?

Did Shintaro bring them here? Or was it Konoha? Maybe Hibiya?

Kano can’t really remember. He can’t remember much of anything, actually. His fingers are wet and slippery when he tries to elevate himself slightly off of the ground, unable to grab anything. The blood smears against everything he touches, and god, there’s so much of it. Everything tastes like copper.

“Kano, Kano, Kano…! Shit, fuck, _I- Fuck-“_

Someone’s swearing.

“Dirty mouth.” Kano murmurs, and it comes out with another mouthful of blood. Ironic. He could almost laugh, if it didn’t hurt so much.

(Does it hurt? He’s sure that it should hurt- and it does, to a certain extent, but not nearly as much as he thought it would. Being stabbed- now _that_ had been an experience, but Kano’s pretty sure that his current predicament of being impaled is worse. Maybe once he dies, he’ll be able to leave an angry review in the online forums of Hell.)

“Don’t talk, just… Stay still, okay? There’s still time for Mary to fix this, just-“ The voice is cut off short by a blood curdling scream from somewhere else in the building. It’s a familiar voice, feminine, but he can’t place just who it belongs to. Ene? Kido? Momo? Mary?

Either way, he knows that it’s someone that he loves.

The anger that boils up inside of him is almost enough to push him up, to desperately hobble over to the source of the noise, leaving claw marks along the otherwise perfect floors. He snarls when two hands gently cup his face, and acting upon immediate instinct, Kano bites down as hard as he possibly can. Which isn’t very hard, considering his situation. Regardless, the hand recoils.

“Dammit- Don’t… Hey, Kano…” The voice creeps lower and lower, until they’re face to face.

Shintaro’s there, his voice somehow still steady, his eyes somehow still clear. _He’s_ not impaled by anything big and sharp and bleeding out, Kano notes vaguely, and a muddled feeling of relief washes over him.

The screaming from the other end of the building has stopped. Does that mean that she’s okay? Kano certainly hopes so. As much as he’d like to, his attempt at crawling out had pathetically gotten him an astonishing distance of zero meters. The only peace of mind that he has is in assuming that Ene/Kido/Momo/Mary are now safe, and making their way out of the facility.

(Lies.)

“How are you, uh… doing?” Shintaro asks. Kano only stares, because _really?_ The expression seems to get through to him, because the other only gives him a wobbly, broken smile and continues speaking. “Here, I’m going to help sit you up, okay?”

When Kano nods, because it’s not like he has any other ideas, Shintaro wraps his arms around Kano’s limp body to help pull him up, cradling his head gently within the crook of his elbow. The angle of the pole doesn’t give much to their efforts, and at the slightest bit of resistance, Kano grunts and flops his head down into Shintaro’s lap.

“That’s as far as I can go,” Kano breathes out, staring up at the other. There’s blood catching in the back of his throat, bubbling up again. Maybe it’d be better to just lay on his back and choke to death on his own blood, rather than slowly bleeding out. Before he gets the option to decide, Shintaro cups his face with both hands and turns him slightly to the side. The blood soaks into Shintaro’s already red jacket, but he doesn’t quite seem to mind.

Shintaro’s always been weird like that.

“I’m sorry. We, uh, we didn’t do it right this time. Mary and I should have… I don’t know. I don’t know. We fucked up. Again. But next time, I promise…” Shintaro says, and his shaking fingers come up to work their way through Kano’s knotted hair. It must feel gross. Sweaty, bloody, dirty, who knows. Still, Shintaro strokes him gently, like he’s the most precious thing in the world, and Kano’s heart skips one of the few beats it has left.

“I think I’m going into shock.” Kano laughs.

He barely registers the press of lips on his forehead, and maybe if he had any energy left in him, he’d feel embarrassed, confused, _something_ , but there’s nothing that immediately comes to his mind. Something’s wet, and dripping onto his face, and it’s not blood.

“Sorry, Shuuya. Just hang on. Mary should know that it’s about time, now,” Shintaro croaks, his fingers gently pushing Kano’s bangs out of his eyes. Tears- that’s what the liquid is- streak down his face, barely noticeable in the dark lighting of the room.

There’s laughter from somewhere. It’s deep, and Kano recognizes it, but he also doesn’t.

The few pieces left of his mind connect that the source of the laughter is probably the same person that unceremoniously left him for death. He hadn’t really gotten a good look at the face of his attacker- just some footsteps, and then bright, visceral pain.

(Pain? That’s right. His scars are showing, aren’t they? It’s so _like_ him, to be a disgusting monster even in death. No dignity at all.)

“Shintaro, you’re surprisingly not so bad,” Kano chuckles breathlessly. He really is running out of breath now. “Thanks… Ah, thanks for helping me out here, I guess. I haven’t known you for very long, but I didn’t really apologise to you for everything, did I?”

The words spill out with more blood. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe, and Shintaro’s fingers are shaking violently.

“Sorry for treating you like garbage… And for being Ayano, too. You probably already know about that. You’re a good person, I think? Also, weird… really _weird_ …”

Shintaro chuckles humorlessly, and there’s more of his tears dripping onto Kano’s face.

“Am I making any sense?” Kano drawls on. It’s fading. It’s dark, so dark. “I don’t know. I’m tired.”

The other only hesitates for a moment, before nodding. Kano thinks it’s a nod, anyway. Shintaro tangles their fingers together with his one free hand.

“You can sleep,” Shintaro whispers to him, his broken voice far off into the distance already. He’s breathing hard and uneven, yet still making a concentrated effort to provide a soothing presence, and Kano isn’t sure why. None of this makes any sense. “I’ll see you soon, Shuuya.”

There’s no point in trying to decipher whatever strange code that Shintaro’s speaking in. There won’t _be_ a next time, Kano wants to point out, as they had already cheated death once, and lightning never strikes twice, but what good would that do?

“I don’t think that I’ve ever really hated you, by the way,” Kano manages to get out, and that’s the last of what he can say.

Just as everything fades out, as the feeling of Shintaro’s fingers in his hair becomes less and less pronounced, Kano can hear a girl (Mary?) screaming, yelling, crying. There’s a blinding light, and _hissing_ , and then-

His heart stops.

Kano’s heart stops, and Shintaro’s breaks for the umpteenth time, and the entire world is wiped clean once more.

 

 

 

                Kano is fairly certain that he hates Shintaro.


End file.
